Eighteen
Clare made Toby a hot chocolate and, while he got dressed and drank the hot chocolate, she packed his clothes into the backpack she had purchased for that very purpose, along with the iPhone she had prepared for Inspector West.
After he had finished the hot chocolate, she handed him his woollen hat and made him pull it down over his ears. There was no point in risking some passing motorist recognising him on the way.
‘Ready?’
Toby hugged her. He’d felt safe with her and had enjoyed the bush walking and camping out. In some ways, Clare had been a lot more fun than his mother. She sure knew a lot more stuff about nature and finding her way around in the dark than his mother did.
‘Thanks for not shooting me, Clare,’ he said, releasing her from his hug.
‘My pleasure, sweetheart.
